


Why Would I Turn on the Radio When I Could Listen to You?

by standonmymoney



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoption, All Platonic - Freeform, Angst, Child Neglect, Family Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), SHIPPERS DNI, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Video Blogging RPF - Freeform, its actually not fine but let the kid try his hardest to ignore his problems, tommys kinda traumatized but its fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28403787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standonmymoney/pseuds/standonmymoney
Summary: Tubbo let out a string of curses as he jerked the steering wheel away from the blatant pot hole that sunk down into the slick pavement in front of the vehicle. The sudden movement caused Tommy to let out a muffled groan into the clenched fist he held between his teeth. Ignoring the agonizing pain coursing through his disturbingly crooked arm, Tommy let his mouth run wild again. He was ranting about how incredibly hilarious it was knowing that Tubbo lacked any knowledge of how to drive a car, but his words were dancing around the car so swiftly that he was practically shouting. The car was silent and the streets were dark and empty with sloppy rain pouring from the clouds. The atmosphere made Tommy feel like he was the only person in the world speaking."I'm sorry, I'll-" Tommy let out a shaky breath as Tubbo tore his worried eyes from the street and glanced at his friend, "I'll stop. You can turn on the radio. Sorry.""What? Why would I turn on the radio when I could listen to you?"
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 179





	Why Would I Turn on the Radio When I Could Listen to You?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is essentially Tommy figuring out why people suddenly care about him as he simultaneously defines his self-worth :)
> 
> this is also my first fic and, ima be honest, I have no fucking clue how to work ao3 so please be patient with me
> 
> The summary seems scary, but I promise theres a happy ending
> 
> please enjoy and leave any suggestions in the comments!!!!!

When Tommy had first arrived at the glorious Watson residence, it was for the ritualistic and uncomfortably formal “Introduction Dinner,” which was a necessary meeting between the foster parent(s) and their new foster child. Usually, during these meetings, Tommy would refuse to participate in any genuine attempts of communication and only responded with firm glares or uninterested grunts. However, Tommy had just been evicted from his previous family after a measly two weeks, which was his new record, and his body was filled with so much pride that he could hardly hold his tongue. 

His past home was small and dark, with yellow lights that would flicker whenever they were turned on. Tommy hadn't seen many of the rooms, but he assumed that all shared the same wooden pattern along the walls that radiated heat during the long summer days. He was only allowed to enter the living room, his bedroom, and the kitchen; however, he frequently demonstrated his rebellious tendencies by sneaking around at night and exploring the small, quiet house. His room resembled more of an attic than a living space with its stuffy air and slanted ceiling that forced the tall teenager to duck whenever he wanted to get in and out of bed. Except, Tommy could hardly call it a bed. It had a wobbly wooden frame that held a thin and scratchy mattress. Many nights during his two week long stay, Tommy would wake up during the middle of the night because of the springs pushing into his spine through the thin material, and he would spend a while stretching out his sore muscles. All in all, Tommy could say with his full gut that his past home was a shit hole. 

The stark contrast between that home and "Mr. Phil's" house caused Tommy to gawk stupidly when he had first seen it, but after two minutes inside the mansion, he realized that he definitely had no business being there. It was well decorated, immaculately clean, and the residents within the home looked peaceful and happy. Tommy immediately felt trapped, and assumed he had been set up. He even checked with the social worker that had escorted him here to make sure it wasn't April Fools Day. Even after being assured it wasn't a joke and a firm scolding for asking such a silly question, the blonde teenager still refused to believe he was meant to be here. 

The dinner commenced with polite small talk revolving around Tommy, which made him tense and uncomfortable. He spent the majority of the time stirring his food around his plate, and the rest of the time he was shooting some snarky remark down the dining table where three men sat; Phil Watson and his two adopted sons. Neither of the younger boys attempted to talk to Tommy, but the taller one of the two would smile whenever their gazes were caught together. However, after Tommy's third disrespectful remark towards the owner of the home, those smiles stopped and turned into cold glares. 

When the dinner ended, Tommy gave the three of them a quick farewell, but before he could turn to be ushered away, his new foster father surged towards him. The boy immediately leaned away, eyes wide and shoulders tightening as the older man enveloped him in a hug. It didn't last long, but when he pulled away, Tommy could see the regret and confusion on Phil Watson's face. Tommy was hit with a wave of guilt as he realized that he failed to hide his uncomfortable expression. He was already fucking up before he even moved in. 

Before he could dwell on the thought any longer, the look on Phil Watson's face was washed away, and Tommy was escorted to the lonely car. The social worker played the radio loud enough that even if Tommy wanted to speak, his voice wouldn't be heard. Moments like those made the boy realize that he preferred shouting over silence, and he accepted that fact that for him, any attention was better than none. 

___

A week later, Tommy was an official temporary resident inside the Watson household. His new room was extravagant, at least in Tommy's eyes, with large windows that showed the peaceful neighborhood below. His bed was massive compared to the ones he was usually given, and it had fuzzy, warm blankets layered over one another to create the most comfortable burrow the teenager had ever slept in. The room also had a desk, computer, and large closet that was already filled with a couple sets of clothes and shoes. Tommy didn't bother to investigate the garments he was given because he much rather preferred the outfits he brought inside his suitcase: the suitcase that was left packed underneath the bed. He had hidden it there on his first day because he knew it would only be a matter of short weeks before he would have to collect his things and leave once more. 

However, the weeks went by and no matter what foul thing he said or did, the suitcase remained unused under the bed. Never once was he even threatened with the idea that Phil Watson might call the social worker and send him back. Tommy had tried many times to push the man to his limits, but he would only respond with gracious forgiveness and gentle touches. Ironically, Tommy hated it. It left him with a frequent feeling of crippling guilt in his chest, which always ended up causing him to barricade himself into his room so that the others wouldn't see the hot tears that would stream down his face. It was very difficult for the teenager to understand the reasoning behind Phil's overwhelming kindness. 

Even though Tommy struggled to understand, he enjoyed living at the house. He felt safe and happy within its walls, and for once, the people he lived with wouldn't constantly act like they hated him. From the ages of seven to sixteen, Tommy had become accustomed to the sound of adults shouting at him and their violent rampages after he did something wrong. It was something he expected from all people who were older than him, and he had accepted that fact ages ago. However, the Watsons were different. 

The first family member Tommy really connected with was Wilbur. The tallest brother was kind, but spoke with so much blunt honesty that the younger boy was caught by surprise frequently while speaking to him. Wilbur was smart, Tommy could tell the first time they spoke, and he had a talent of psycho-analyzing people while also simultaneously being completely oblivious to those around him. So, during Tommy's first night at his new home, Wilbur immediately began invading Tommy's personal space and bombarding him with questions. 

"Why'd you get kicked out of your last home?" Wilbur questioned while helping Tommy settle all of his items into his new room, "Like, how bad did you have to fuck up to do that?" Wilbur chuckled a little, leaning over towards Tommy to place a small cup of pens on the boy's nightstand. 

After instinctively leaning away, Tommy snorted humorously, "That's not the only home I was kicked out of, mate. I've gone through like, I dunno, thirty maybe." 

"Thirty?! Jesus fuck," Wilbur whipped his head around to look at the younger boy, his face far too close for Tommy's liking, "But what happened? Tell me the truth." 

"I- well it's quite funny actually," Tommy rubbed that back of his neck, looking away from Wilbur and staring at the fancy lamp next to his bed, "I may have knocked over my last family's dead grandma's ashes." The older boy immediately fell to the floor cackling, covering his face and rolling against the carpeted ground. A smile grew on Tommy's face as he began to laugh as well, and he was incredibly grateful for the way the room lit up brightly thanks to their cheery laughs. 

"No fucking way! That is-" Wilbur cackled again, slamming his fist against the floor, "That is hilarious. How the fuck did you manage that?" Tommy shrugged as an answer, shoulders still shaking with laughter. The night continued that way, Tommy and Wilbur sitting on the bed talking about their lives and warmly joking. It was around four in the morning when Tommy finally passed out from the exhaustion of talking for hours. The teenager dreamed happily that night, his body wrapped in warm sheets and even warmer thoughts. 

Tommy learned that night that Wilbur was the first child to be adopted, and he was eight when he first became apart of Phil's family. The curly haired boy said that he hardly remembered his life before being adopted by Phil other than a few core memories, and despite not relating to Tommy's situation, Wilbur actively listened and tried to understand the boy. He was like a breath of fresh air in Tommy's suffocating life, and for the first night in ages, the teenager felt truly connected to another human. 

Wilbur also spoke to Tommy about what it was like to live in the Watson household. He found out that his other foster brother, Techno, was a lot less social than Wilbur was. Techno apparently kept to himself naturally, but Wilbur assured the blonde teenager that Techno would warm up to him eventually. The middle brother was adopted around four years ago, but he first arrived as a foster child like Tommy. 

"Actually, when Techno first arrived, I hated him," Wilbur pointed out as he slumped against Tommy's pillows, "It was weird because I should've liked him, with him being the same age as me, but I saw him as competition. Just stupid thirteen year old shit." Wilbur shrugged before continuing to tell a story about how Techno once almost caught the house on fire trying to cook pasta. Tommy zoned out a bit, thinking about how he acted when he was thirteen. 

At thirteen, Tommy had made a reputation for himself as a "troubled child." This kind of title made it hard for families to take him in, and many times Tommy would have to wait weeks before another family would decide to accept him into their family. On Tommy's thirteenth birthday, he was staying inside a government paid facility while he waited for another foster family to give him a chance. Tommy remembers that day being very cold and lonely as he sat in his room alone staring out the window as the sloppy rain fell and splattered against the dark street. That day, the lonely and emotionally unstable boy decided that he no longer wanted a birthday. He no longer wanted the anticipation of a stupid day for disappointment to be the only emotion he would feel. He felt pathetic as he shivered due to the cold and the sobs that wracked his body, but he continued to hug his knees and curl in on himself hoping that he would just disappear. 

But that talk with Wilbur made him feel something. It made him think that maybe, just maybe, this year he would wake up on his birthday and get the privilege of being surrounded by people who loved him. It gave him hope; a type of hope he had not felt in years.


End file.
